Now when Pilsam gazed upon the mighty warrior, wrapped about with anger, he was afraid. Nevertheless, he proceeded to encounter him, striking with all his might at the head of the champion. But though the sword of the Hero was broken by the blow, not a hair of Rustem’s head was disordered. Waiting not for a renewal of the attack, however, Rustem now fell upon the Tartar with fury, lifting him lightly and easily from the saddle. Then taking him by the girdle, he flung him, as a thing contemptible, into the Tartar camp, shouting in a voice of thunder:

“Ho, black-hearted King! Here cometh thy glorious conqueror. Pray, wrap him in robes of gold, for I fear that my mace hath made him blue. And give unto him now thy daughter and thy treasure, thy kingdom and thy soldiers, for is he not, indeed, a bright jewel in thy crown of sovereignty? And hath he not added lustre unto Turan, the land of mighty heroes?”

So spake Rustem in his anger, and so terrible was he that suddenly the courage of the Tartars all departed from out them. Neither could Afrasiab incite them to fresh endeavor, though he strove mightily; for lo! the fear of Rustem the Avenger had taken full possession of their hearts.

Then Afrasiab, shamed by Rustem’s taunts, himself appeared in arms against the champion, and fiercely they fought for hours. Finally, however, Rustem struck the head of Afrasiab’s horse which, floundering, fell, over-turning his rider. Then, quick as a flash, the great Persian sprang to seize his royal prize and wreak a perfect vengeance. But alas! the Tartar, Human, rushed between and saved his master, who, vaulting upon another horse, fled, murmuring unto himself:

“Alas! alas! The good fortune which hitherto hath watched over me is asleep.”

Now thus it was that Afrasiab became a wretched wanderer upon the face of the earth. For behold! not only did Rustem utterly demolish his capital, but he paused not in his work of destruction until the whole land was laid waste. And yet was the vengeance of Siawush not complete.

HOW GEW HELPED A HERO-PRINCE UNTO A THRONE

Behold! it is chronicled that after the death of Siawush there was born unto Ferangis, in the house of Piran-Wisa, a son so attractive of mien that already in his cradle he was like unto a King.

Now evil counselors bade Afrasiab destroy this Prince, who, according to the astrologers, was destined to bring destruction upon Turan. But the King, whose heart had been softened by his sorrow for Siawush and by the eloquent pleading of Piran-Wisa for the life of the child, shut his ears unto them, saying:

“Verily, I repent me of my evil deed unto Siawush, and though it be written that much evil shall come unto me from this offspring of his race, yet will I not again stain my hands with the blood of any of his house. Let the babe live, therefore, but let him be brought up among shepherds in the mountains, far from the haunts of men, and let his birth be hidden from him, that he may never seek to avenge the cruel death of his sire. So may all yet be well.”